Victim of a John DoeDo you want to hear the story
of how I died?
I promise it won't be boring
so if you would
just take a seat, have a drink
Past memories reach,
I met the most amazing man
who spun words of silver and gold
with a tongue more fine than silk.
He told me he could do no wrong
and I, young and foolish, believed him.
And when we went home,
his eyes shining with new excitement,
things were perfect.
Then it shattered.
Nothing more intense
than feeling my own blood
trickle down my body.
stares traveling down
blood spattered knife
a gaping wound
cries of shock
gleaming white smile
solid drops of blood
and fading light.
I knew him for one night
he disappeared the next.
To this day I am simply known
as the victim of a John Doe.
The climbHe tied his boat among the rocks, and soon began to climb. Slowly, every so slowly, he went foot by foot, climbing away from shore and onto what should be called land, but really was nothing more than rocks.The climb3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
When he tried to look above there was no grass of green. More and more rocks awaited our man, and still he climbed. The sun beat down, and clouds covered the top so our poor man could not see his destination, but still he climbed.
'It appears as though God has taken a day off today,' he thought to himself. And still he climbed up and up, even though the rocks were always coming.
When the stones cut into his palms, and the toes of his shoes wore down till his toes peeked out, and when the sun burned what skin it could, and when the wind cut through his clothes and chilled his bones, he still kept moving forwards. He couldn't see the sea below him, and there was nothing in front of him but clouds.
And still our poor man climbed, and climbed, and climbed.
To reach the top and say that
Paper ButterfliesA cut, a tear, a fold,Paper Butterflies3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
slice of color and a cut or two,
and another paper butterfly is born.
IV drips in the hand
keeping everything in place
while the cuts and tears and folds
keeps going on.
One thousand, six hundred and sixty six.
That's the number
she was told to make.
One thousand, six hundred and sixty six.
Until she can get a wish.
A nice nurse had told her so,
and shown her how to make them
but she had only made thirty out of the
one thousand, six hundred and sixty six
It seemed like such an impossible number
that one thousand six hundred and sixty six
but our patient needed that wish
just like everyone else,
in that hospital that our patient was at.
Her wish though
was not what someone expects
from our patient who will not last much longer.
is for her family to be happy when she's gone
and that they won't miss her to much
and that they will find someone else
after she has gone.
isn't to stay
and to get better
because she knows
that it won'
This is a poemThis is a poem.This is a poem3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's full of lines,
and goes with a meter,
rhyming of words of course
and contains more than you think.
So much thought
is going into this poem
to many words
and so many emotions
that it's almost hard
for the poet
to capture it in a few words.
This poem has a deep meaning
that you will feel is just out of your grip
and it shall be misheard and misread in its time.
For now though,
this is just a poem
that is full of rhythm
and words too big to pronounce.
This is a poem,
full of words
This poem is just words on a paper
that are meant to make you think.
Can you feel the love,
or the hate, or even the fear,
in this poem?
This is a poem,
with a simple repeating line
that is just meant
to make you think.
Through a gap in the fenceThrough a gap in the fenceThrough a gap in the fence3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
they saw each other.
Drawings on the walls
for messages of love.
Images don't matter anymore
as words are the only thing
that can travel
through that gap in the fence.
Whispers of love
and no one else cares.
Still they have not seen each other
through the small gap in the fence,
But of course
all good things must end.
The gap was closed
and their love was lost.
As time erases
their love was lost
and the lovers who met
through a gap in the fence
never got to whisper
their sweet nothings to each other
through a gap in the fence again.
The Siren's Call.The Siren's Call.The Siren's Call.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Bright pink lips,
a bikini top.
She gestures wildly,
beckoning every person
to have a dance with her.
Another drink goes down
and I'm pulled into her dance
where hips thrust wildly
and hands roam everywhere.
Yet when lips meet,
it's hollow and broken
sloppy and careless
no spark or real feelings.
I don't walk away
or even pull apart.
Our limbs mesh together more
and even though it's full of sweat
and nothing more than heat
I cannot bring myself to turn away.
This Siren has captured me,
and for the rest of the night
The Caged Birds SongFor the caged birdThe Caged Birds Song3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
sings of freedom.
The caged bird sings
to hear his own songs.
For in all the twitters and tweets,
and in the cries and screams,
the caged bird sings
to hear the song of freedom
that it shall never know.
The caged bird has no use for words
or shouts of anger and sobs of terror.
The caged bird only needs its song.
Through bars and glass
the caged bird sings its song
and the caged bird and I,
we sing together,
because we are not free
in mind and soul
but together we are free
The Wishing TreeTraveling along a concrete roadThe Wishing Tree3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
until the pavement turned to grass
and the grass turned to dirt.
Just when the land turned barren and bland
an abandoned park stood rusty and proud.
Little Jessica walked along that dirt path
not minding the hot sun
or how her backpack got heavier with every step.
When she finally reached
that abandoned park
Little Jessica played in the slide
and swung on the swings
that creaked with every rock.
She bored soon and left
that barren park
going to the one sign of life
A sorrowful tree, with no leaves left
stood near that abandoned park.
Little Jessica, feet scuffing the dirt
went to this poor alone tree.
From her backpack, Little Jessica
pulled paper upon paper out.
With bits of string and tiny fingers
Little Jessica attached every single strip of paper
to the branches of that leafless tree
as high and far as she could reach
until the dry branches could no longer be seen.
When she was done
Little Jessica surveyed her work,
proud of the job
Lovely AnneI once met a girl named AnneLovely Anne3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and what a lovely girl was she.
She sat in corners and talked
and talked when no one listened.
While lovely Anne was so lovely
no one went near lovely Anne
and her never-ending talking.
Lovely Anne with black hair
and dark skin. Never listened
to the voice of society.
Lovely Anne talked of a world
so unlike our own.
No one went near her,
but everyone listened
to the thoughts of a wonderful world.
Lovely Anne lived in a world
where the clocks struck thirteen
where everyone loved
where everyone smiled
and tears were never shed.
The walls and floors
objects and papers
that she talked to day and night
held to her words
and wished for her world.
Poor Lovely Anne had no friends.
But lived in a world that was entirely her own.
Lovely Anne who never left her world
and thought reality was imaginary.
DystopiaDirty water,Dystopia3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and broken seams.
Cries in the night
as life becomes a fight
there's just no more light.
Men are trying,
women are running
children are crying
people are dying.
Let's go, he whispered.
I-It's dangerous, she stuttered.
But we can't just stay, they uttered.
Chaos roams the streets
and blood's on the ground like treats.
Dystopia never ends
as society bends.
Life shall be dystopia
and never a utopia.
MagicA long time ago, when the world was new,Magic3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and longer than anyone can remember
magic existed in the world.
It healed the sick
and didn't cause anything bad.
Magic was for good
and never harmed the people.
Then one day
a sorcerer broken by pain
and an outcast of society
used his magic
to hurt and cause pain.
He killed with his magic,
and made people suffer
in ways that should never be allowed.
The evil sorcerer went across the land
never sparing a soul and making
curses that could never be broken.
Five of the best magicians were shocked
and banded together
to stop his evil reign over the people.
Nothing the good magicians did worked
and they were faced with a final
completely unspeakable action.
The good magicians joined hands,
bound their power together
and used their life force
to stop his ways of evil.
The evil sorcerer fell,
and after that it was decided
that magic should never be used again
in case someone else decided
to use it the way the sorcerer did.
Now because of pain and a bro
Bi-PolaroidWill you take a Polaroid pictureBi-Polaroid3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And shake it in your hand
As you wait for it to develop
Please try to understand
That my smile might as well be painted
My tears photoshopped out
I'll add a caption on the reverse
So there will be no doubt
That I swing low like a pendulum
In a grandfather clock
That I fly high as a soaring kite
With each tick and each tock
Will you take a Polaroid picture
And hold me in your hands
As you wait for me to develop
Please try to understand
There'll be days when I'm as cold as ice
I'll thaw myself for you
And those things I said with aggression
I will try to undo
You should take me in to a dark room
And shake me till its clear
The love I show you is very real
The hate just comes from fear
Why I cryI like to cry myself to sleep at night.Why I cry3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I cry for my cat who was run over.
I cry for my father who left me.
I cry for the friends I have lost.
And I cry for the bullies who push me in the halls.
I cry for me, myself, and I.
I cry for the body that I don't have.
And I cry because I'm not happy.
I cry for my broken family.
I cry for lost love.
And I cry for the unwanted.
I cry for the people death has taken from me.
Every night my pillow soaks,
gathering the tears that I shed.
By morning they are gone
and no one knows I cried myself to sleep.
BlindWhen I close my green eyesBlind3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
If I focus I can see
People and places from my past
Etched in my memory
If a blind man closes his eyes
What can he possibly see
Without any visual images
Stored in his memory
How do I describe colour
To man who is born blind
The same way I describe my love
Within these heart felt rhymes
When I close my green eyes
I use my mind to conjure up
Dreams of the future, based on
Pages already written in my book
If a blind woman closes her eyes
What future can she see
Unable to visualise
Her fate and her destiny
How do I describe colour
To woman who is born blind
The same way I describe my love
Within these heart felt rhymes
Dance with the DevilStep into the circleDance with the Devil3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and dance with the Devil
in the song that never ends.
Let him take your pain away,
think of nothing more than this moment
Come dance with him in the circle
and forget all your troubles
they won't matter anymore.
He just asks for that simple price
I'm sure that you already know.
Come dance with the devil darling
he'll take all your woes away.
Swing in the circle
to the beat that never ends.
Once you take that step
and enter the dance with the Devil
you'll never leave it again.
Sell your soul
and dance that eternal dance
Dance with the Devil
to music's soft embrace.
Sing along with the song that never ends
and just give your soul away.
Nothing shall matter anymore
as you dance with the Devil tonight.
DaddyDaddy,Daddy3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
aren't you proud of me?
Haven't I done enough Daddy?
Am I not your little girl?
I'm sorry I'm not perfect,
but can you please come back?
I promise I'll do better.
I promise I can be perfect.
Don't you love me?
Look I drew you a picture,
will you come home now?
Where did you go?
Please come back.
Mommy says you don't care anymore
but I know it's not true.
It can't be true.
You don't even call anymore.
You said you loved me
and that I was your princess,
then why aren't you here?
Please come home.
I want my Daddy back.
The Envious MoonThe moon's envious glow,The Envious Moon3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is nothing more, than the suns bright rays
shinning back from a gray face.
The loneliest person in the world,
she can only reflect what others disperse
and never show her own light.
Sometimes though, she gets her desires
to change the light she reflects
and becomes orange or red.
It never lasts though.
She finds solace in her reflection
to know that she is actually there,
and to feed what little pride she has.
And the moon sits alone
never to have company.
Only her mournful shriek her only sound.
She can never be the one
who provides light and comfort.
The most she can do
is give off a little reflected light,
that isn't even her own.
Everyone loves the sun,
that warm, life birthing parent.
And everyone ignores,
the pale envious moon.
Who wants nothing more
than to be loved.
Grow UpWhen I was young,Grow Up3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I knew a girl.
She was so warm and bright,
so I asked her that question
that all children must answer.
'What do you want to be
when you grow up?'
Her eyes lit up with joy
and she jumped with excitement.
No, an astronaut!
I'll be famous
and in movies!
will be everywhere!'
She listed so many more
until she finally just smiled
and looked at me with eyes filled
with child-like wonder.
'I could be anything I wanted.'
Years and years later,
I saw the same girl again
but her eyes no longer
lit up with wonder.
I asked her,
'What did you end up being?'
She smiled the hollow smile
that adults have when talking to the young.
'Not what I wanted to be
when I was young.'
Nothing more was said on the matter
but I could see that there was no more wonder
in the eyes that once shone so brightly.
Colours I Never TastedIt is not worth escaping over.Colours I Never Tasted3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
No, sometimes the sun rises lopsided in the horizon and the
clink of glasses against teeth sets irate neurones off in your mind cavity
and fireflies extinguish on car windscreens in rain storms. Sometimes
August drops down into lake reflections and sometimes October never
sends a breeze to whisper into your ears. But they teach you that all of
that is okay, even when you're watching sunflowers writhe towards the
sun with grey blankets over humid-day hair.
There will always be a dawn. Stay awake for it.
You are not truly living until you have breathed.
And by that, I mean, take two feet and place them on the path
or the grass and inhale April. it doesn't matter if it is not April,
imagine the dandelions and the daffodils and the soft bleat of lambs
and that fresh scent rushing past your nose in long car journeys,
the one that tugs your legs onto the map and tells you 'this is home,
all forty thousand kilometres of it'.
The world is your oyster. Be the pear
No one would miss me...It's the same thing that drives me to suicide nearly every night,No one would miss me...3 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
It's the same thing that gives my enemies such evil delight.
It's the same thing that gives my lover such a fright,
It's the same evil thought that I am thinking tonight.
Even you reader, would you miss me if I left?
If I just stopped writing poetry, left this account bereft?
Would anyone, anywhere, miss me if I left?
If I left for good, because with a blade I am deft.
No one would miss me...
No reason to, no one loves me.
No reason to, no one even likes me.
It's just a fact that no one would miss me.
You are woman. You are man.You are woman,You are woman. You are man.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
so be kind,
all in your own way.
You are man
so be strong,
AtticI went through the attic todayAttic3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
just to see the memories that lie.
Inside a box there was nothing
but cobwebs and fickle dust.
Yet in a corner of the room
there is the most beautiful memory,
photo albums of love
and presents from trips long ago.
I do not have to read the letters of love
for their words have long since been memorized.
A little stuffed lion
won at the circus,
shall sit in my lap
and remember along with me.
Never stitched in love this lion was,
but love was what it was meant to feel.
So as I sit and look,
from albums of old,
and presents from trips,
and letters of love,
and my lion in my lap,
I cry happy tears
at the memories that have passed.
'Darling, come downstairs!'
I can almost hear your voice shout below.
'Dear! You are never going to believe
the memories that I just unearthed.
Let's look together, and relive the old
and maybe then my tears for memories past
can become tears for something new.'
CorvusCorvus:Corvus3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Black feathers falling through the empty sky
A whisper upon the winds, better left unspoken
As a glimmer of sunlight catches my eye
I am drawn to the worms that writhe below
Each one pulses with the desire to live
endlessly tunneling through the sands of the earth
With nothing more for them to give
I'm afraid they are quickly eaten...
One, two, three and four
Each one swallowed by an open door
Five, six, seven, eight
They know not love nor petty hate
It makes me wonder if they feel this pain
of being consumed by the one they fear
They sprout and dance in the lovely rain
Not knowing of that which lurks so near
-Chen Yuan Wen, Experimental Release
Green InkShe writes with green inkGreen Ink2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
eternal scrawls upon the page.
She wrote with green ink,
because it was the color of his eyes,
and the pond in the park,
and the seats on the bus,
and the grass outside,
and rose stems.
She wrote with green ink
even when her boss yelled
and the teacher screamed
and nothing worked out.
Because green was her favorite
and it was his favorite as well
even when he was sick while
his skin was green.
He still loved the color green
when the dirt fell down
when he didn’t recover,
the grass that bloomed
was the most angelic jade.
And she still wrote in green ink
because it was the color of the grass,
and his favorite color
and the color of his eyes
on his last final days.
The house on the hillUp on a hill there lived a house,The house on the hill3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in that house lived an old man.
He had lived his long life
and had lived in that house his entire life.
He didn't have family
and stayed on the porch every day.
When the children would come
he would give out candy apples and sweets.
The children loved the nice old man
who lived on the hill.
Then the man on the hill
passed away and went to a better place.
The once great house,
faded from thoughts
as the town still grew below it.
Once shiny windows,
and flawless paint,
faded and became aged.
The garden once taken care of,
with wrinkled old hands,
became overcome with weeds.
The children looked,
at the old abandoned house on the hill
with fear and curiosity in their eyes.
It was a place of rumors,
and childish wonders.
"If you throw a stone and
break a window you get a wish."
"A ghost haunts that place."
"No one cares about that
old house on the hill anyway."
Through whispering willows,
rumors about the house on the hill spread.
Once a great home,